


Night Watch

by erenjeagle



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol, Bar Fightin, Drugs, M/M, McTrashed, Other, Partying, Promiscuity, The Flesh Curtains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 06:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11007630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erenjeagle/pseuds/erenjeagle
Summary: After their concert, Rick goes to a bar and gets totally wrecked while Birdperson watches over him.





	Night Watch

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a drawing I did of a totally smashed punk Rick.

His throat was raw from his performance earlier that night. It was considered singing, but it might as well have been flat out screaming into the microphone. The smoke from the bar didn’t help his condition.

Tonight had a been a good performance for him and The Flesh Curtains. The venue had been nearly full with spectators, each one as raucous as the band’s flashy gimmicks and its even flashier members. The crowd and the band fueled each other, leading to a wild night to say the least. Birdperson was more than content with ending the show and returning to their hideout to get some much needed rest. His friends however, were not.

At the end of the last chord of their last song, Birdperson breathed a sigh of relief. He enjoyed the performing and the fans, but he could get his fair share pretty quickly. Rick, however, had an insatiable appetite for both attention and action. Birdperson looked over to Rick as the crowd roared for what should have been the last time that night. Rick looked back to him and winked. He strode over to Birdperson and pulled the microphone from its stand. Birdperson hoped against hope he would only say a thank you and farewell. Hope hadn’t always been kind to him.

Rick had announced an after party at some obscure bar that he had doubtedly asked permission to use as a venue. Rick’s grin grew impossibly wider as the crowd’s roar erupted again. He turned to Birdperson and shrugged before turning back to the crowd and throwing a fist in the air. Birdperson knew it would be a long night.

That had been hours ago. The bar Rick had designated as their home for the next who-knows-how-long was stuffy and packed. Birdperson took care to avoid the stumbling bodies in the crowds as he kept a close watch on his friends. Every time Rick or Squanchy decided to venture out, Birdperson acted as the guardian of sorts. Not that he minded; it was sort of an instinct to him, and he enjoyed protecting his loved ones. But in cases like this, it got to be a bit taxing. It was nearing a full 24 Earth hours since he had slept, and he was willing to bet it was far past that for Rick. Birdperson was not accustomed to staying up for excessive lengths of time as Rick so casually did. His feathers didn’t stay this pristine on little sleep.

From his corner across the bar, Birdperson had seen Rick stumble from stimulus to stimulus--drugs, alcohol, bodies, anything that could grab his attention for more than a few seconds. Seeing him surrounded by all these people was fascinating yet disorienting. These were one of the times Rick would be on overdrive. The other time he’d act like this is when he was in that sweet spot of almost-sober and almost-drunk. His mind would be clear enough to process information at superhuman speed, yet just slowed enough for him to get it all down on paper or out in words. Those were the times when he would come up with his most brilliant ideas. You could see him darting to a piece of graph paper to scribble down notes, then up to the contraption he was fabricating, then to a bottle of spirits within reach for a quick swig, then back to work, all the while mumbling equations and formulas. It was like seeing an embodiment of the neurons firing in Rick’s brain. It made Birdperson’s heart beat a little faster.

In the dingey bar, Rick was performing the same dance, but was instead flitting back and forth from powerful drugs, to classic liquor, to flashy groupies, all while soaking in the attention of their smitten fans. Rick’s hooting and forced laughter could be heard over everything else--or perhaps that was just how fixated Birdperson was on him. Times like these made Birdperson’s chest flutter, both with admiration and discontent.

Birdperson was not against some drinking and maybe a little light partying. He had even agreed to a few drinks tonight. But Rick almost always did everything in excess. He knew Rick was compensating. Rick had on numerous occasions gotten blackout drunk and stumbled over to Birdperson, when they were completely alone, and poured out his sorrows. The next morning, Rick would not recall the previous night’s interaction. Whether he was bluffing or legitimately could not remember, Birdperson did not know. Birdperson would argue he was the one person that knew most about Rick, and he’d argue Rick would begrudgingly agree, though he would not admit it out loud. Rick had forged a hard shelled exterior to combat the universe and keep his weaknesses locked away. The shell had undoubtedly kept him safe against the unforgiving multiverse, but it had also undoubtedly caused whatever problems he hid to fester. Birdperson knew Rick had issues. And he knew what Rick was doing tonight only caused them to branch out and root deeper.

Birdperson was jerked from his thoughts by a body tripping into his own. He was prepared to shrug it off and scoot away when he noticed the burst of electric blue. Rick looked up from Birdperson’s chest with a crooked grin and lidded eyes. He used his loose grip on Birdperson’s shoulders to try and slink himself back up into a standing position. It only contributed to his stumbling. Rick grumbled something incoherent as Birdperson hulled him back to his feet. Rick give him a gratified grin and slung one arm over his shoulder and pointed at him with his other hand.

“H- Hey, Pers- Bir’pers- person, Birdperson, hey- buddy, whassup, y-y-you havin’, you havin’ a good… good time, Person… Bird- person, huh, Pers?” Rick slurred. Birdperson took a moment to piece together the broken sentence. His eyes darted around the bar, then back to Rick. Rick was nearing the climax of his downward spiral, as evidenced by his appearance. He had various liquids spotting his clothing and skin, along with other solid substances Birdperson made sure to keep his feathers clear of. Upon close examination, the whites of Rick’s eyes were tinted blue and red. His skull shaped belt buckle was undone, but thankfully not missing. His already skimpy tank top was untucked on one side and hanging off the other shoulder. His breath smelled stale and of alcohol as it ghosted across Birdperson’s face. His smile did not reach his eyes.

“I would not call this what I consider a good time,” Birdperson stated.

Rick feigned hurt. “Oh, c-come on, Pers, this is a- a blast, look’t everyone, they’re all just- just… just out there havin’ fun, come on, dontchya’ wanna ha- have some- some fun?”

“It’s rather late. Perhaps we should leave for some rest,” Birdperson offered.

Rick gasped and shook his head violently, stuttering out any variation of a denial he could conjure. “Sorry Per, I-I just- I just can’t do that. The party’s just getting started, man!” He gestured sweepingly across the bar. His eyes caught Squanchy who held up a bag of some illicit substance and waved Rick over. Rick hooted. “Alriiiiight! Squanchaaaay!” He let go of Birdperson and didn’t make it a step before tripping over his own feet. Birdperson did not hesitate to catch him by the back of the shirt and pulling him upright. Rick threw a hand on Birdperson’s shoulder. “Th- thanks, Pers. I can always count on you.” Rick held eye contact with him until Birdperson nodded his acknowledgement. Rick cracked a shark’s smile before patting Birdperson’s shoulder and staggering through the throng of dancing bodies over to Squanchy. Birdperson sighed and leaned back against his secluded wall.

The night just got a little longer.

Birdperson kept his vigil over Rick as he stumbled through the next few hours. Rick managed to take in at least three other types of drugs and more alcohol than Birdperson likely consumed in a month. As the night drug on, Rick began getting into scuffles with other bar patrons who got in his way as he bled into his more violent, short tempered stage of intoxication. Birdperson only had to break up one fight, though. Birdperson knew that Rick could hold his own against the alien considerable larger than him on stamina alone, but he would really like to escort out only a partially damaged Rick. Plus, they were fugitives, and if the cops were called, Birdperson would not risk being caught by the Federation because of Rick’s drunken pride. After Rick had stopped trying to wiggle himself out of Birdperson’s grasp, Birdperson had set him free with a warning that one more fight and he’d drag Rick out. Rick had begrudgingly wandered off to find something else to occupy him.

The night deepened and the crowd had hardly thinned. It seemed to have gotten thicker. A few times, Birdperson had lost sight of the striking blue hair popping out of the crowd. He had almost become frantic, darting his head around, when he finally caught sight of Rick staggering out the bathroom. Birdperson relaxed slightly. A scantily clad female following Rick suit, adjusting her rumpled mini dress. Birdperson found it very interesting to examine the nearest ceiling tile. Rick returned to partying for a while before Birdperson had to search for him again. He again caught sight of Rick. He was pressed up against the wall, legs around a lizard-man’s waist, pants undone, tongue likely down his throat. Birdperson then made friends with a nearby ceiling fan.

It seemed like days had passed when the crowd started finally thinning, must to Birdperson’s relief. He weaved through the lingering people to find his companions. Squanchy was at the bar, suckering some schmucks out of whatever currency they had left. Birdperson made a note of his location before continuing the search for his guitarist. 

Birdperson found Rick’s scuffed shoe near a wall of the dancefloor. He found his skull shaped belt discarded outside the bathroom door. He found his thin shirt trampled on the floor across from a dingy booth in the corner. He found Rick’s bruised arm draped over it and he found a very dirty Rick slumped in it. He recognized the pair of underwear around Rick’s arm as the pair Rick had been wearing earlier, which had peeked above his sagging skin tight pants. The underwear Rick was currently wearing under his unzipped, halfway-off-his-ass pants were not his own and did not have cloth on the bands that clung to his hips, nor anywhere else that wasn’t directly over his privates. His hair was matted in places and bruises, scrapes, and blood painted his body. Drool dripped from his lips and onto his chest, gathering with crusted substances streaking up his stomach. 

They never found his other nipple ring.

Squanchy bumbled over to Birdperson and upon seeing Rick, gave him a thumbs up. Rick merely gave a slow blink in response. Birdperson sighed.

“Come, Rick. It is time to leave”

Rick made a protestant moan and slid further down the seat. Birdperson kicked away discarded cans and bottles. He knelt by Rick and slid an arm behind him, hooking it under his armpit and pulling gently upwards. Rick’s head lolled as he slid off the seat into Birdperson’s arms, making no effort to support himself. Birdperson blinked and tried again to lift Rick to his feet. Rick managed to support himself briefly before he collapsed against Birdperson again. Birdperson let out a small sigh before bending down and hooking his other arm under Rick’s knees and cradling him close to his chest. Rick protested weakly and lightly slapped Birdperson’s chest. Birdperson suppressed a grin and gestured for Squanchy to follow.

As they made their way out of the bar, Rick rested his head against Birdperson’s chest. Birdperson could smell the sweat and alcohol wafting off Rick, but he payed no mind. This wasn’t the first time. He doubted it would be the last. When they exited the building, Rick squinted at the early morning light.

“Sssshit,” he whispered. Birdperson resisted a snide remark about leaving when he had suggested. Perhaps an ‘I told you so’ was due, as Rick had described to him once.

Birdperson opened the backseat door of the flying van Rick had crafted before they had started touring. The rickety thing had gotten them out of as much trouble as it had gotten them into. Rick acted as though the construction was as menial as constructing a paper airplane, but it still fascinated Birdperson. In his culture, it was impressive to build something sturdy out of sticks. This little dabble of Rick’s far surpassed Birdperson’s stick creations.

Birdperson laid Rick gently across the backseat.

“I c’n drive,” Rick grumbled. Birdperson grinned and cooed inadvertently. He quickly caught himself and cleared his throat.

“Rest, Rick.” Birdperson patted him on the shoulder. He once again made for his leave.

“Hey,” Rick caught his arm. He looked Birdperson in the eyes; they were strangely lucid. His grip tightened slightly. “Thanks. I love you, man.”

Birdperson’s chest fluttered. He attributed it up to the alcohol. Both in himself and Rick. He grinned and patted Rick again. Rick grinned back before passing out and lightly snoring almost instantly.

Birdperson stepped back and watched Rick for a beat. He allowed himself a small smile. He closed the door and climbed into the front seat. Squanchy sat next to him, seat reclined. He turned his head towards Birdperson. “I could squanch that again,” he said before yawning, rolling over, and passing out almost as quickly as Rick had.

Birdperson paused. He looked in the rear view mirror at the steady rise and fall of Rick’s sleeping form. 

He shrugged. “Perhaps,” he uttered, before he started the engine and drove off into space.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, first posted fanfic wow, I feel accomplished.


End file.
